


It's Never Enough

by Bearandleonardwrite



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blind Date, Desk Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, Harry's a history professor, I'm sorryyyyy, Louis works in a museum, M/M, Museums, Sooooo much history, There's also a very unfortunate, a bit - Freeform, and, but it all works out, not really - Freeform, there's actually quite a lot of mishaps, truly awful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5720800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearandleonardwrite/pseuds/Bearandleonardwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeah? What else?" Harry asks anyways. Louis doesn't know he's a history professor and Harry doesn't want to tell him because he doesn't want to, like, offend him or embarrass him or something. He really, really likes the sound of Louis' voice and doesn't want him to stop talking. Ever. </p><p>"The first attack was led by the Catholics." Right. "And they just, like, stormed Jerusalem and took over." Mostly wrong, but Harry just lets him talk, lets him explain (more like make up) everything in the section. </p><p>(Basically; Harry is a history professor who fancies Louis, the fit bloke that works at his favorite museum. Louis doesn't know anything about history and he <i>definitely</i> doesn't know Harry's a professor. Featuring an awful blind date, some inappropriate grinding in Ancient Rome, and a handful of mishaps.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [handcversbruise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/handcversbruise/gifts).



> Happy happy birthday Felix. I hope it's fabulous!  
> Title from One Direction because obvi.  
> Hope you like it!

Harry's just finished getting his bun perfect when he realizes he doesn't have a hair tie. He huffs to himself and holds his hair in place while he looks around his desk. Of course he doesn't have any at his desk. Why would he do something so logical? Just as he's about to let his hair fall back to his shoulders and go on a mission to ask all of his colleagues if they have a hair tie, he flicks his eyes down to the paper he was grading. And. Hmm. He grabs his pencil and sticks it in his hair, twists it a bit, then smiles to himself. Success. 

It takes him a couple more hours to finish grading, but when he's finally done he heaves himself out of his chair and stretches, feels his back pop. He should probably do more yoga, he thinks. He grabs his coat from the hook by the door and tugs it on before he bends down to get his bag and slings it over his shoulder. 

It's Saturday and Saturdays are his absolute favorite. Most of the time he doesn't work Saturdays but it couldn't be helped, what with all the papers that needed to be graded. He'd gone in earlier, though, so he'd still be able to continue his Saturday tradition. Every Saturday for the past six months he's gone to the new history museum they've just opened in his city. It's a great museum, he thinks. Sure, he's seen nicer ones, but this one is special for some reason. It's not just because of the beautiful blue-eyed boy who works Saturday afternoons either, though that doesn't hurt. 

Ever since Harry was a kid he knew he wanted to teach. But more than that, he really loved history. He used to beg his mum to let him stay up late so he could watch the new documentaries as soon as they came out and would always ask for history books for Christmas. It was probably a bit weird, but he couldn't help it. He just loved it so much. So, becoming a history professor just seemed like the right thing to do. 

The walk from the uni to the museum isn't very long, and fifteen minutes later he's bounding up the steps and walking through the doors. "Hello, Mr. Styles," the receptionist greets. "Good to you see again."

Okay, so _maybe_ he comes more often than just every Saturday, but at least he's getting out, right? Usually he starts from the ancient section, 'cause it's his favorite, and works his way through until he gets to the modern age, but he's late so he has to skip that part. Well, he doesn't really have to, but he's caught onto his favorite person's schedule and he knows he's already by the section about the crusades. Harry's not too miffed, though, because he also loves that exhibit. 

He looks down at himself, smooths his t-shirt out, and then pats at his hair to make sure it's still perfect. It is. He can do this. Harry takes a deep breath and walks down the hall until he reaches the beginning of the exhibit. Louis' already there, of course he is, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest watching the visitors to make sure they don't touch anything. "Hey, Louis," he says and walks over to the first display case. 

Louis grins at him and walks over to where he's standing. "Hey yourself. How are you? You're late, y'know?" 

Harry hums and runs his fingers over one of the tattered shields that are on display. He's not really supposed to, he knows that, but he can't help it and Louis never tells him to stop. "Yeah, I had to run into work. I'm here now, though. Bit tired. How are you?" 

"Good. Hungry." He hears Louis mutter under his breath, "better now," but decides it's best not to comment. 

"Miss your lunch?" Louis just shrugs. "Alright, well tell me about the crusades, then." 

Louis frowns for a bit and rubs at his jaw. He hasn't shaved for the past couple days and Harry absolutely loves it. "Well, they started in the beginning of the tenth century." He's wrong. Harry doesn't correct him. "And went until the 1400's." He's still wrong. So wrong. 

"Yeah? What else?" Harry asks anyways. Louis doesn't know he's a history professor and Harry doesn't want to tell him because he doesn't want to, like, offend him or embarrass him or something. He really, really likes the sound of Louis' voice and doesn't want him to stop talking. Ever. 

"The first attack was led by the Catholics." Right. "And they just, like, stormed Jerusalem and took over." Mostly wrong. Harry just lets him talk, lets him explain (more like make up) everything in the section. 

When they're done with the exhibit, he really doesn’t want to leave, but he has to and that kind of upsets him. He hates when he doesn’t get to spend the whole day listening to Louis prattle on. His phone beeps just as they’re about to move onto the next exhibit and Harry frowns as he apologizes to Louis and digs his phone out of his pocket. It’s a text from Niall. 

From Niall: Harryyyy ur missing the game. hurry up

To Niall: I’m at the museum. I’ll be home soon. 

From Niall: come home now u promised

To Niall: I don’t even like Derby

From Niall: idc u promised

To Niall: Fine. I’m coming :(

Harry sighs and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry, Louis, I promised my mate I’d watch the game with him.” 

Louis’ face lights up and he asks excitedly, “Oh, which game? I love footie!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! I played for uni and everything.”

“That’s awesome, Louis. I’m sure you were great.” 

Louis smiles bashfully and looks down at the ground. “Thanks,” he murmurs. “So, who’s playing?” He asks again after a beat.

“Derby and-” Harry furrows his eyebrows together and tugs on his lip. “I don’t remember actually. I don’t like either.” 

“Ah. Derby and Sheffield Wednesday,” Louis says helpfully. “I hope Derby tramples them.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows and giggles. Then internally slaps himself because why is he even giggling? “I take it you don’t like them much.” 

Louis wrinkles his nose. He’s adorable. And beautiful. Harry is so smitten. “Not a bit, mate.” Harry’s phone beeps again so Louis sighs and says, “Guess you should be going, then.” 

“Yeah, I should. I’ll see you around. Promise not to be late next time.” Louis mock salutes him and goes back to leaning against the wall to people watch. 

***

 

“Niall, I’m probably in love,” Harry says the second Niall opens the door. Niall just rolls his eyes and tugs Harry inside by his elbow before closing the door behind them. 

“Museum boy again?” 

“Always.” Harry lets Niall tug him over to the couch and pull him down on the space next to him. "He's just- he's so beautiful and he doesn't know anything about history and I'm so smitten." 

Niall shoots him a quick glance before staring intensely at the tv again. "Just ask him out, H. You're a great catch. He'll say yes." 

Harry is _not_ going to do that. He's awkward enough, thank you very much. "I can't do that. I'll make an arse out of myself."

"True." Harry glares, but Niall just rolls his eyes. "It'd be cute, though. We should talk about this at halftime." Harry pouts and flops down, lays his head in Niall's lap, but agrees. 

They don't talk about it at halftime because Harry ends up falling asleep as soon as Niall starts carding his fingers through his hair. They don’t talk about it when Harry wakes up either because as soon as Harry blinks his eyes open and looks up, Niall blurts, “I met a really fit bloke on the train.” 

Harry grins at him. “Really? I’m glad, Nialler. Tell me about him?”

“Yeah, alright.” Niall pauses and sucks in a breath. “Okay, so like, he had really nice hair and big brown eyes, kinda looked like a puppy. And he was super fit, like, I bet he works out all the time. He had really intense eyebrows too, but in a good way.” 

Harry hums. Niall doesn’t really date, like, ever and Harry’s really happy he’s interested in someone. “Was he nice?”

“Yeah, really nice. He got off on my stop to walk me home and everything.” 

“Did you get his number?”

“‘Course I did,” he says smug.

***

 

Harry goes to the museum on Wednesday after his courses because he’s a little bummed that his time on Saturday got cut short. And it’s probable that he only knows Louis works Saturdays and Wednesdays. He’s never gone any other day, and he’s not willing to try and risk not being able to see Louis. It takes him a stupid long time to find Louis. He hasn’t frequented the museum on Wednesday’s enough to have caught onto Louis’ Wednesday schedule yet. 

It takes about twenty minutes before he finds Louis in the Ancient Greece exhibit looking at some of the sculptures. There are three sculptures lined up, one from each period, to show the differences in style. When he finally gets the courage to go stand by Louis, he knocks their shoulders together and whispers, “Hey.” 

Louis looks over to him and his face positively lights up. He smiles so wide his eyes crinkle at the corners and, god, he’s so beautiful. “Hey, Harry. Didn’t think I’d see you here today. S’not Saturday yet.” 

Harry feigns surprise and asks, shocked, “It’s not? Shoot, that’s why there were so many people on the tube.” Louis rolls his eyes so Harry grins at him and knocks their shoulders together again. “Nah, just figured I’d pop in since I didn’t get to stay the whole day Saturday like I usually do.” 

“Glad you did,” Louis says. 

Harry has to duck his head so Louis doesn’t see the blush creeping up his neck and the way his cheeks tint pink. “Uhm,” he starts and clears his throat. “So, tell me about the sculptures then.” 

Louis rubs his hands together and then points at the one all the way on the right. “That’s from the archaic period. You can tell because it resembles ancient Egyptian art and sculptures. Everything’s pretty basic compared to the others.” 

He’s right. He’s so right and Harry beams at him because that’s the first time he’s nailed something spot on. It’s possible he studied up on some history. Harry’s so fond. “Yeah? What about the one in the middle?” 

“From the Hellenistic period.” He’s wrong, but Harry doesn’t care. He’s still proud. “That’s when they started to add, like movement and stuff into sculptures and paintings. And they’re more realistic. The last one’s from the Classical period. You can tell because they started adding drama. Lots of movement. Much more accurate representations.” Louis smiles to himself and Harry’s pretty sure he thinks he’s got it perfect. It’s mostly right. He just mixed up the time periods, so he doesn’t say anything. Of course he doesn’t. 

“That was very informational. I think I like the Hellenistic period best,” Harry says and deliberately points to the _correct_ sculpture because he knows Louis will correct him. Even though he’s wrong. 

Louis grabs his hand and moves it so he’s pointing at the statue in the middle. “I like those ones best, too, babe.” 

Harry lets out a squeak, because _babe_ , and then coughs to cover it. He knows he’s caught, though, because he sees Louis look at him in his peripheral and smile privately to himself. “Care to show me some more about the Archaic period?” Harry asks because it seems Louis’ got that bit down. 

And he _does_ actually have that time period down. Well, mostly. He gets the dates all wrong and some of the important figures of the time mixed up, but all in all it’s a pretty accurate description of the Archaic period. He definitely studied, Harry thinks. They walk through the ‘Hellenistic’ (Classical) exhibit next and Louis fumbles a bit more. 

When he looks down at one of the plaques to check his accuracy on a ceramic piece, he frowns adorably. “Shit, I’ve mucked this bit up. This is actually Classical Greece. Oops.” He smiles shyly and shrugs. 

It’s so cute Harry can’t help but beam. “It’s alright. I’m pretty sure you won’t quiz me at the end.” 

“I’d pass you anyways. You’re too cute to fail,” he says casual as ever. Harry feels warm all over. 

***

 

The following Saturday, Harry sticks to his normal route. He finds Louis at the beginning of the Mesopotamia exhibit leaning against the wall like always. Except this time, he’s got two cups of tea in his hands and gives one to Harry as soon as he’s close enough. “I didn’t know how you took it, so I just added some sugar. Hope that’s alright.” 

“Anything's good.” Harry hums happily after taking a sip and smiles at him. “How do you take your tea, then? I’ll buy next time.” 

“Just, y’know, plain. I like it strong. Good tea doesn’t need sugar.” 

Harry smiles around the rim of his paper cup and mumbles out, “You’re sweet enough.” 

Louis blushes and fingers at his fringe so he doesn’t have to say anything back. They stand there and stare at each other for a few minutes before Louis asks, “So, wanna get this started?”

“Yeah,” Harry says and starts to walk towards the entrance to the exhibit. He stops in his tracks, though, and turns to Louis who has to sidestep him so he doesn’t knock into him and spill his tea down their fronts. “We’re not supposed to have food or drink in any of the exhibits,” he whispers. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Louis says with a mischievous smile. 

“Yeah, alright,” Harry agrees after a moment’s hesitation. He definitely stands further away from all the displays than necessary because he would hate himself if he spilled. That would be a disaster. 

Louis actually explains Mesopotamia nearly perfect. He gets the order of the civilizations correct (Assyrian, Babylonian, Sumerian), and it only takes him a few moments to remember that they originally used pictograms before they switched to cuneiform. When he tells Harry about all the gods and goddesses they worshipped, he’s off by a thousand, but he knows which was the main god for each civilization, so Harry thinks it’s alright. 

They’re making their way through Ancient Egypt when Louis finally breaks. Harry doesn’t know as much about Ancient Egypt as the rest because it wasn’t as interesting to him in school. He kind of skipped over a lot of the text and crammed for every exam. Somehow, he passed. So he’s not really sure how much of what Louis’ saying is wrong. He does know, however, a lot about the deities and pharaohs. That’s when Harry realizes for certain that Louis’ fumbling and that’s also when Louis cracks. 

He’s rattling off names of the deities and says, “So, King Tut made them go from worshipping multiple deities to only worshipping Atum.” That’s wrong. Louis knows it’s wrong, too. “Shit, that’s not it. He made them worship Ra.” Still wrong. He furrows his brows and rubs at his chin, shoots a look to Harry. “That’s wrong, too. I don’t remember.” 

“Aten,” Harry replies helpfully. “And it wasn’t King Tut. It was his father. He changed pretty much everything when he was in power.” 

Louis stares at him for a couple seconds before he looks down at the plaque and reads it. “That’s not on the plaque,” he says quietly. “How’d you know that?” Harry just shrugs. "Don't freak out," Louis says after a few moments and raises his hands up like he's trying to placate Harry. 

"I'm not freaking out." 

"I don't know shit about history-"

"I know."

"I just took this job to pay off my loans and put money in my tattoo fund. Knowing history wasn't really a requirement because I’m just supposed to ‘supervise customers’ and I- wait what?"

"I know."

"What do you mean you know?"

Harry stares at him for a moment before letting all his breath out in a sigh. "I'm a history professor, Louis."

"Oh, fuck," Louis says with wide eyes. He runs his hand roughly over his face. "Shit. I made myself look like a giant idiot this whole time. Why didn't you tell me? Or correct me, even? Like, everything I've said is wrong."

"Not everything." Louis just gives him a look so Harry shrugs and smiles shyly. "I like listening to you talk. I don't really care what it's about, or if it's wrong. You've got a nice voice." 

"Uhm, that's- okay." Louis clears his throat and fiddles with his fingers. "Thank you. Your voice is nice, too."

"Thanks," Harry says around a smile. "So, what did you major in, then?" He asks before the silence becomes awkward. 

"Drama. That's why I work here, really. Haven't been able to get a good job. And paying student loans back is apparently important. Or something."

"And tattoos," Harry adds. 

"Yes. And tattoos." Louis purses his lips and rocks back on his heels. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I probably should, like, read up more on some of this shit. I did a bit, though, because I didn't want to sound more stupid."

"Maybe I could teach you sometime," Harry says looking up at Louis from underneath his fringe. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'd like that." The smile Louis gives him is absolutely breathtaking. Harry is so gone. 

***

 

Harry is late. He's very upset about it. Right as he was getting ready to leave, Niall had a freak out over going to meet the guy from the train. Harry had to calm him down and then help him pick out his outfit. It was really pointless because Niall just ended up wearing what he was originally in before the freak out started. 

Then Harry had to stop and get tea because he'd told Louis he would. That was a disaster because he spilled the tea all down his front when he pushed instead of pulled on the door. So he had to go back home and change before stopping to get two more teas. The barista had given him a couple biscuits because she undoubtedly remembered him from that morning. 

When he does finally get to the museum, Louis' already at the door to the Mesoamerica exhibit. He's leaning against the wall again, but he's got a frown on his face and he's picking at his nails clearly annoyed. Harry rushes over to him, breathless, and thrusts the cup of tea in front of him along with the bag of biscuits. 

"I didn't think you were coming," Louis says sadly as he stares down at his cup. "I thought I'd gone and fucked it all."

Well, shit. That's definitely not what happened and Harry has to get him to understand. "No, Louis, that's not it. I just- okay my mate had to go on a date, right? And he ended up having a giant freak out over it so I had to help. And then I ran into a door-" 

"You ran into a door?"

"I don't want to talk about it. So I spilled our drinks all over myself and then had to go home and change. But I couldn't not bring you tea-"

"Yes, you could've."

"No, Lewis, I couldn't have. So I had to go back and get new ones. And then the lady gave me biscuits for free because she pitied me. I'm so sorry." Harry finishes his story with a giant huff and looks down at his feet. 

"Well, _Harold_ , I guess I'll just have to forgive you, then."

Harry looks up at him hopefully. "You will?"

Louis shrugs. "Yeah, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just being a baby."

"A cute baby." Harry needs to work on his brain to mouth filter, honestly. 

Louis smiles at him and then clears his throat. "So, are you gonna teach me some history?"

"If you want, sure."

"Lay it on me."

"I most definitely would," Harry replies, voice low and rough. Louis chokes on his tea and Harry's praying the floor will open up beneath him. Oops. He coughs once and takes a long sip of his tea. "Let's go," he says and walks into the exhibit. 

The first period is the Olmec and Harry absolutely loves it. He rambles on about everything and touches all the exposed artifacts even though he's really not supposed to. Louis still doesn't stop him. When they get to the end of it, Harry's a little sad because, really, he does love it. 

“I think Chichen Itza is definitely my favorite city from the Classic Maya Period,” Harry says when they stop in front of set of pictures. “Only because of El Caracol, though. It’s a really pretty site.” He points at the picture of the structure in front of them. “It’s pretty amazing how they built all of that. Don’t you think it’s pretty, Lou?”

“You’re pretty,” Louis blurts. He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat like that wasn’t supposed to come out. Harry understands. “I mean, uh, yes. It’s pretty. Quite.” He clears his throat and looks around the exhibit. “Tell me about this,” he states as he pulls Harry along by the elbow. 

Harry goes easily but frowns when he reads the plaque. “Lou, this is about Moctezuma II.” 

Louis just stares at him. “I literally have no idea what that means.”

“He was the last elected ruler of the Aztec civilization. We skipped over the Toltecs. You can’t do that. If it wasn’t for them, the Aztec culture and pieces of the Maya culture wouldn’t be the same. Mostly the architecture.” Louis blinks at him. Harry sighs. 

“Okay,” Louis says drawing at the word. “Then take me back to the Toltec.” 

 

When Harry’s finished telling Louis all about the Toltecs and then the Aztecs, he looks at Louis sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, talk your ear off. You should cut me off next time. I won’t mind. I mean, you probably don’t even like history.” 

“I like it just fine when you’re talking about it. I don’t mind,” Louis says with a shrug. He walks Harry all the way to the front hall before they stop. Harry stuffs his hands in his coat pockets so he won't do something stupid, like hug him. They don't do that. Louis copies, puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and rocks back on his heels. "So, did you hear about the new exhibit they're opening?" 

Harry hums and nods. "'Course I did. I practically live here, remember?" 

Louis huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "You gonna come to the opening or wait till there aren't gonna be hoards of people?" 

"There's no way I'm missing the opening of that exhibit. The suffragettes were, like, the most important for the women's rights movement. Very under appreciated, but a very, very important part of history. I'll camp out if I have to." 

Louis smiles, eyes crinkling. "Wouldn't expect any less."

***

 

“Niall, I’m in love,” Harry says as he drops down on Niall’s couch. “He’s perfect. And beautiful. And he let me ramble about history. It’s meant to be.”

“Have you asked him out yet?”

“No. I can’t do that.” Harry pouts up at Niall. “What if he says no?”

“He won’t say no.”

“You can’t know that.” 

“Of course I do. You’re adorable.” He opens his mouth to say something else, but his mobile rings, effectively cutting him off. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and lights up when he sees who’s calling. “I have to take this. Be right back!” 

Niall rushes out of the room and once he’s closed his bedroom door behind him he answers. “Hello?”

“Hey, Niall. It’s Liam.” 

“Yeah, I know. Caller ID.” 

“Oh, right. I forgot that was, like, a thing.” Liam chuckles nervously. “So, sorry for calling so soon. I don’t know if that’s a problem? But, I wanted to ask you something.”

“It’s not a problem. Hit me.” 

“So, I had a really great time with you,” he starts. 

Niall can’t help but cut him off because, “I had a nice time, too.” He’s squealing internally. 

“Yeah? Good. That’s good.” Liam clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “So, my mate was telling me about this new exhibit they’re opening at the museum- he works there- and he’s kind of roped me into going. Apparently there’s this bloke that goes in every Saturday and he’s gonna be there so he wants, like, moral support or something.” He lets out a groan of frustration. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble. I’m nervous.” 

“Don’t be nervous. I don’t mind the rambling. It’s cute,” Niall says, smile evident in his voice.

“Thanks. Anyways, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, like a date.” 

Niall’s quiet for a moment, gotta keep him guessing, he thinks, then says, “Yeah, of course. That’d be fun.” 

“Really? Okay, great. It’s not till next month. Is that weird? I don’t know. I just thought I’d ask ahead of time. Be proactive and all that.” 

“No, I don’t mind. Harry was probably going to ask me to go with him anyways because there’s this- wait.” Niall furrows his brows together and thinks for a moment, then it clicks. “Hey, you said your mate works at the museum, right?” 

“Uhm, yes?” He sounds confused. 

“What’d he tell you about the bloke that always goes in?” 

“What didn’t he tell me? Honestly, I feel like I already know the guy. It’s weird.” 

“Liam. Can you explain in details, please?”

“Oh, right. He’s tall, I guess? And he has curly hair that’s long enough to put in a bun- Louis always goes on and on when he puts it in a bun- and he’s ‘really pretty.’ Lou’s words, not mine.”

“Liam, I have a brilliant idea.”

“Okay? I’m really confused.” 

“Oops, sorry.” He’s not sorry. “I know who your mate’s talking about. It’s Harry.” 

“Yeah! That’s his name!” 

Niall pulls the phone away from his face and stares at it. “Yeah, I know,” he says once he’s brought it back up to his ear. “I know him. He’s in my flat right now. We should set them up on a date.” 

“That’s such a great idea,” Liam says excitedly. “He’d be so excited.” 

Niall’s a genius, obviously. “Great. Harry gets off early on Friday, so we should get them reservations for dinner that evening.” 

“Okay, I’ll do that. Louis’ gonna be so excited when I tell him.”

“No! You can’t tell him!”

“What? Why?”

“Harry won’t go if he knows it’s Louis. He’d work himself into a frenzy and I do not have the time to deal with that.” 

“Why can’t Lou know?” Liam asks, still confused.

“It’s not really fair is it? If one person knows and the other doesn’t. It’s gotta be a blind date.” 

Liam’s quiet for a moment before he sighs. “Yeah, alright. That makes sense.” Of course it does. Niall’s brilliant. “We can’t really describe what the other looks like, though. They’d figure it out.”

“Shit, you’re right. One sec, I’ll figure something out.” Niall furrows his brows while he thinks. It takes him a few moments, but when he finally gets it, he grins wide. He really is a genius. “How about you tell me what Louis’ gonna wear and I’ll tell you what Harry’s gonna wear? And then we’ll just, like, relay it to them.”

“Okay, that works.” 

“Great.” 

***

 

“Niall, I really don’t want to do this.” Harry says from where he's standing in the middle of his room watching Niall rifle through his closet. 

“Put these on,” Niall demands as he throws a pair of black jeans at Harry’s face. Harry manages to catch them, but it’s a close call. 

Harry huffs but pulls them up his legs, shimmies a bit to get them over his bum. “I still don’t want to do this.” 

“You already agreed, Harry. You can’t back out now.” His phone beeps so he pulls it out of his pocket and reads over the message. “Why would he let him wear that? Every person in the world dresses in all black. Idiot,” he mumbles to himself. “Alright, we gotta make you flashy. Your date’s gonna be wearing a black turtleneck and a black blazer.” 

“How am I supposed to find him? Literally anyone could be wearing that,” Harry points out, hand on his hip. 

“Yeah, I know. Idiot.” Niall keeps rummaging through his closet, then throws his black leather boots at him. “Wear those.” 

“Would you stop throwing shit at me, Niall?” Harry asks as he jumps back to avoid being hit in the stomach by his boots. 

“Sorry.” He really doesn’t sound sorry. “Oh! You should wear this!” Niall turns around holding Harry’s pink polkadot button up. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why?” Niall whines.

“I’m gonna look like a giant dweeb. He probably doesn’t even like color if he’s wearing all black. And that’s, like, as colorful as you can get.”

“Just put it on. It looks good on you.” 

“I know it does. That’s why I bought it.” He grabs the shirt from Niall and slides it over his shoulder, does up the first three buttons. “Is it trashy for a first date to leave half my buttons undone?”

“Nah,” Niall says and shakes his head. “He’s got a thing for tattoos. It’s a good idea.” 

“‘Kay.” Harry sits down on his bed and pulls his boots on, zips them up. He grabs his belt from on top of the dresser and starts sliding it through his belt loops. “What happens if he doesn’t show up?” Harry asks while he buckles his belt. 

“He’ll show up. I’m pretty sure he’s already left.” 

“Why would you tell me that? Now I’m late. Shit.” Harry runs over to the mirror and looks himself up and down. “I look okay, right?” 

“I’d get it.” 

Harry scrunches his nose but doesn’t say anything. 

***

 

When Harry gets to the restaurant he's five minutes early and very pleased with himself. He slides his coat off his shoulders and folds it over his arm while he waits. Even if his date has already arrived, he'd rather not seem like the weirdo who shows up early, so he stays by the hostess stand while he waits. 

Right as the clock hits seven, he's probably been watching it the whole time, the door opens and- well, Louis walks in. Harry's about to go say hi to him, but he can't. He can't because Louis' wearing a black turtleneck with a black blazer over it. And that's exactly what his date is supposed to be wearing. It's probably a coincidence, he tells himself. 

Louis notices him about five seconds later. His face lights up briefly and then the smile drops off his face and his brows furrow. He hesitantly walks over to Harry and says, "you're wearing an ugly pink shirt with polkadots."

Which. Rude. Harry frowns down at his shirt and then at Louis. "There's nothing wrong with this shirt."

"Well, I mean. It looks really good on you." Harry beams. "It's just- the thing is. I'm on a blind date, see." Oh god oh god oh god. Harry's going to die. "And I was told my date would be wearing an 'ugly pink shirt with polkadots.' Liam's words, not mine. Promise."

"Oh god," Harry mutters. 

"I'm just going to assume you're my date because I don't know anyone else who would own a shirt like that." Harry just nods. Louis smiles beautifully and claps his hands together. "Great! Let's eat." 

Louis grabs Harry's hand and tugs him along as they follow the server to their table. They get put at a table in the back corner and Harry couldn't be more pleased. Less people to embarrass himself in front of, he thinks. Louis orders them a bottle of wine and Harry is so grateful for that. 

"So, uhm, what do you do?" Harry asks after he pours himself a glass. 

Louis just stares at him because, "I work at the museum, Harry."

"Oh. Right." He clears his throat and sips at his wine. "Do you like it?" 

"No," Louis says slowly. "I don't know shit about history, remember?" Harry wants to slap himself because _yes_ he does remember that. 

"Right. Fuck. Maybe you should ask the questions. I'm clearly doing a shit job at it."

"It's alright. I think it's cute." 

Harry's saved from coming up with a reply to that by the server coming back to write their orders down. Except, Harry's not looked at the menu yet and he has no idea where they're at. He's never been here before. He looks over the menu quickly, but there's not enough time for him to register anything before the waiters turning to him. 

"I'll just have the same," he says. He has no idea what he just ordered. He hopes it's not, like, frog legs or something equally foreign. He's not feeling very adventurous tonight. 

Louis keeps the conversation going until their food arrives. He's clearly much better at the whole "date" thing. Harry thanks the server and then looks down at the plate that's been put in front of him. "Fuck," he mumbles to himself. Of course Louis would order steak. 

Harry picks at it, very uninterested, and gives up after a few bites, just eats his mashed potatoes and green beans instead. Louis stops in the middle of what he was talking about and asks, "Is it not good? You can send it back, love." 

"Uhm, no. It's just." Harry looks up at him and frowns because Louis actually looks very concerned about the state of Harry's dinner. "I don't usually eat red meat." 

"Why'd you get it, then? There was chicken on the menu."

"I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry." Harry feels like an idiot. 

Louis sighs and rolls his eyes. "Well you don't have to apologize, Harry. Want my vegetables? I won't eat them," Louis says as he wrinkles his nose. He doesn't wait for a reply before he picks up his plate and slides his green beans and half his potatoes onto Harry's plate. He stabs Harry's steak with his fork and puts it on his own plate when he's done. "I could take it home. Not gonna make you eat it," he explains. 

Louis' just so _nice_ and sweet throughout the whole meal. Harry embarrasses himself at least forty times, but Louis never says anything about it, just keeps giving him little smiles and stupidly fond looks. At least it can't get any worse, Harry thinks. 

Turns out it can get worse. Harry's paid the bill because, "No, Louis it's fine. You can get it next time," and they're both ready to leave. As soon as Harry goes to stand up, he bangs his knee on the bottom of the table. It would be fine, especially compared to the rest of the date, but it's _not_ because he bangs his knee hard enough that the table shakes. The table shakes and the rest of the wine falls over and spills all over the table. And himself. And _Louis_. 

"Shit!" Louis hisses and stands up quickly. He holds his hands up and stares down at his now ruined clothes. Harry's gone and managed to ruin his whole outfit. Amazing. Harry wants to cry. 

"Oh my- fuck, Louis I'm so sorry!" He grabs the pile of napkins from the table and leans across it to try and pat down Louis' shirt. But of course he just knocks the table again and the wine sloshes over the side and all over Louis' shoes. Great. "Fuck. Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry." 

Louis' just staring down at himself and frowning because he's covered in wine. "Uhm, fuck," is all he says. 

"I'll get it dry cleaned I swear! Like, obviously I won't do it because you're wearing your clothes, but, like, I'll pay the bill. Fuck. I'm so sorry." He just keeps rambling out apologies and everyone is staring and Louis still won't look at him. Fuck. "Oh my god. I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry."

"Let's just go, yeah?" Louis says quietly as he gets out of the booth fully. He follows Louis out the door, still muttering apologies. When they're outside, Louis finally turns around and looks at him. "Uhm, thanks for dinner? I'll see you tomorrow, Harry." And then he just walks away. Fuck. 

It's not until he's on the bus going home that he remembers he spilled wine all over himself too. And it's not so much that he remembers, as it is an old lady moving from the seat beside him because, "you smell like a bloody liquor store." Awesome. 

***

 

Harry definitely does not go to the museum the next day. In fact, he hardly gets out of bed all weekend, barely manages to drag himself to work Monday morning. He does, however, text Niall and tell him to tell Liam to tell Louis he's serious about the dry cleaning. Niall just sends him a bunch of question marks in reply, but Harry doesn't respond. He doesn't really want to relive that date again. 

He doesn't go to the museum the next Saturday either. It's very probable that he's avoiding Louis. And the whole date situation. Harry has never been on a date that bad before, pretty sure Louis hasn't either, and he doesn't really know how to deal with it. It doesn't help that he still really, really likes Louis and he went and messed that whole thing up. His ability to embarrass himself amazes him sometimes. 

***

 

Harry's grading papers in his office and he's bored. They're all terrible. All of them. It worries him, a bit, because that could mean he's failing them as a teacher. He doesn't like that much. But when he thinks about it, it's not the material that's wrong, it's just everything else. (Probably the material, too, but he'd like to stay in denial.) 

His classes are done for the day and he decides after he's graded for about an hour, that he is too. He just wants to go home and go to bed. Maybe he'll go to Niall's and force him into cuddles. He slings his bag over his shoulder and walks over to the door. 

As soon as he opens it, he really wishes he would've waited ten more seconds. He gets hit in the face. "Ow, fuck!" He yells as he grabs at his nose. "Fucking shit." He's fairly certain his eyes are watering, he's probably crying, and it's quite possible his nose is broken. (It's not.) 

"Shit! You weren't supposed to be opening the door!" Louis yells frantic as he pulls Harry's hands away from his face. "Are you bleeding? Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

Harry tries to blink the mist from his eyes, but they just keep watering because, " _Ow_ , that fucking hurt." 

Louis pushes him in his office enough to kick the door closed behind them and pokes gently at Harry's nose. “Shit, you are bleeding. C’mon, sit down.” He makes Harry tilt his head back as he walks him over to his desk. He pushes at his shoulder and Harry feels around under himself for his chair, then sits down. “Tissues?”

“I don’t know. Over there somewhere.” Harry points in the direction he thinks his bookcase is. 

He must’ve pointed in the right direction because Louis walks back over to him and pushes a wad of tissues on his nose. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I hit you. And made you bleed. I feel like such an arse.” 

“Maybe that means we’re even. Y’know, for the whole wine thing,” Harry says, voice muffled from the tissue. 

“Harry!” Louis splutters looking down at him with wide, worried eyes. “It does not make us even! You didn’t physically assault me. You didn’t- you didn’t make me bleed!” 

“That’s true.” Harry closes his eyes because now his head really hurts. “I don’t think I’m bleeding anymore.” 

Louis wipes his nose, apologizes when Harry winces, and throws the tissues in the garbage. “I’m so sorry, Harry.” 

“‘S okay,” Harry mumbles with a shrug. “How’d you know where I work?”

“I asked Liam if he’d ask Niall. Except now I’m starting to think maybe that was a bad idea. Shit.” He rubs his hands over his face and then through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You sound like me,” Harry says around a smile. “Why’d you come?” 

“Because you’re avoiding me, Harry. You haven’t come to the museum for the past two weeks. I didn’t think the date was that bad.”

Harry blinks his eyes open and pulls his brows together, then quickly rethinks that because, _ow_. “Louis. I literally spilled half a bottle of wine on you. It was that bad.” 

“Well, you didn’t spill it _all_ on me. Some of it landed on you, too.” Harry just looks at him, so Louis sighs and runs his hand through his hair again. “Will you at least come back to the museum? I just- I miss you, okay?” 

"Uhm," Harry says dumbly. "I mean- I can- you do?"

"Well, yeah," Louis mumbles shyly with a small shrug. 

"I miss you, too."

"Yeah?" Louis breathes, eyes twinkling. 

Harry nods and sends him a little smile. "Yeah. I'll, uhm, I'll come back, then. Yeah, I can do that."

"Okay, good. You coming Wednesday or Saturday? I need to know 'cause it's my turn to buy tea." 

"Absolutely not. I'll be getting the tea as, like, an apology for all your clothes. And your shoes."

Louis rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. Harry really should not be paying attention to the way it makes his biceps bulge under his denim jacket. "Harold, honestly, I just punched you in the face. I'll get the tea."

Harry sighs. "Yeah, alright. Wednesday. I'll bring the biscuits." Louis' answering grin makes Harry smile back widely, momentarily forgetting the aching in his nose and head. 

***

 

Harry takes off work early on Wednesday. He leaves straight from his last class, tells all of his students his office hours are being moved to Thursday. He'd baked them chocolate chip cookies the night before so he wouldn't have to stop and buy some. Plus, like, it'll show Louis he can be domestic. And shit.

It doesn't take him long to get there, having left before the rush, and before he knows it he's bounding up the familiar flight of stairs. Louis' in Ancient Rome. Damn, Harry thinks, if only he'd been a few minutes earlier he could've caught the end of Ancient Greece. 

Louis' facing away from him, tea already in his hand, so Harry sidles up behind him and whispers, "hey, Lou," right against his ear. Louis lets out a squeak and jumps, goes to clutch at his chest. Of course, he can't because he's holding two cups of tea, so some of the liquid ends up sloshing out of the top and down the front of his shirt. 

"Shit," Louis hisses as he thrusts one of the cups into Harry's hand. He pinches the fabric of his shirt in his fingers and pulls it away from his body. "It's fucking _hot_."

"Oh my- I'm so sorry! I keep ruining all your clothes! Oh my god!" Harry looks around frantically for napkins, but there aren't any. They're in the middle of an exhibit. 

"It's fine. I don't really like this shirt anyways." Louis fans his shirt out a bit then let's it fall back against his chest. "It's fine, really." When he finally looks up at Harry, his eyes grow wide and he gasps. "Oh my god! I gave you a black eye!"

"Yeah, I know," Harry mumbles, wincing when Louis runs his fingers over the skin under Harry's eye and the side of his nose. "I'm okay, just, y'know, not quite as pretty for a few days"

Louis smiles at him fondly and brushes the backs of his fingers along Harry's cheek. "You're still the prettiest. I'd start a war for you. Send two thousand ships, even." 

Harry smiles dopily and flushes all the way down his chest. And, of course, because his mind is constantly working against him, he breathes out, "that's Ancient Greece, Lou. We're in Rome."

Louis shakes his head and smiles full force, eyes crinkling. "I don't care. Still true."

Harry's about to do something stupid, like kiss him, but someone clears their throat loudly behind them. They pull apart and look over to the noise. It's the receptionist. "You're not supposed to have drinks in the exhibits," she says with a roll of her eyes. And then turns on her heels, calls over her shoulder, "You need a new shirt, Louis. Mr. Peters will have a cow if he sees you like that."

"Where am I supposed to get a new shirt?" Louis yells. The receptionist just shrugs and keeps walking. "Fuck," Louis huffs as he looks down at his shirt. 

Harry's face lights up as he grabs Louis by the elbow and tugs him over to the restrooms. The door swings shut behind them and Harry walks over to the sinks, sets his cup down and puts his bag on the counter. "Come on, take your shirt off," he says, already sliding his coat down his shoulders. 

"What," Louis says deadpan.

"Take your shirt off. We're gonna switch." Harry sets his coat down on top of his bag and starts working on getting his buttons undone. 

"Harry," Louis says, voice strangled as he watches Harry unbutton his shirt. 

Harry pulls his shirt off and waves it at Louis. "Give me your shirt." When Louis doesn't move, just keeps staring at Harry's exposed torso, he waves his shirt in Louis' face. "I'm cold. Come on."

"Yeah, I can tell," Louis breathes out as he finally pulls his shirt over his head. Harry switches shirts with Louis and frowns down at himself because what? Oh. Yeah, his nipples are hard. 

When he looks back up at Louis, his throat goes dry because Louis' pulling Harry's shirt up his shoulders and is just starting to work on buttoning it up. And he's- fuck, he's _fit_. 

It's not quite spring yet, still cold enough to need a coat, but Louis' skin is golden like he's just been sunbathing. He's got tattoos littered all along his chest and arms. Harry knew about some but he didn't know he had that many, and they compliment his skin tone perfectly. There's traces of abs on his tummy and a little trail of hair from the bottom of his navel that continues down under the waistband of his boxers. And his biceps, oh _God_ his biceps. He's got a bit of chest hair too and Harry doesn't even like chest hair, but. He does now. 

Harry actually lets out a tiny whimper when Louis finishes buttoning up the shirt. His chest was really nice, okay? Louis hears him, because of course he does, and quirks an eyebrow at him. "I understand, now, why that was a bad idea," Harry mumbles as he pulls Louis' tea-stained shirt over his head. Louis just giggles at him and, wow, Harry wants to make him giggle all the time. It's amazing. 

After Harry's finished putting his coat back on, bag slung over his shoulder, Louis smiles widely at him. "So, Rome?" 

***

 

When Harry goes to the museum on Saturday he has a whole bag of muffins he'd baked for Louis. Turns out Louis really liked the chocolate chip cookies and he had mentioned being a big fan of chocolate chip muffins. Louis really likes sweets, apparently. Harry had stayed up far later than he intended the night before making sure they were perfect. 

"I brought you something," he says as walks over to Louis. He definitely remembered not to sneak up on him this time. 

"Oh?" Louis asks, one eyebrow arched and a grin tugging at his lips. 

Harry hums and pulls the bag out from behind his back. "Heard you like chocolate chip muffins and as luck would have it, I had all the ingredients." He didn't. He went out to the shops as soon as Louis told him they were his favorite, but Louis definitely doesn't need to know that. 

Louis beams up at him and takes the bag once Harry's handed it to him. "You're amazing." Harry doesn't know what to say, so he just smiles back and tries to hide his blush behind his curls. "Do you think- would you like to stay and eat one with me before you go home?" 

Harry nods excitedly and grins so wide his cheeks hurt. "Yeah, I'd like that." 

 

They go through the Chinese ceramics exhibit and Louis lets him ramble on about how they've always been the most advanced in the world, about how porcelain was first produced in China. Every time Harry stops to apologize, Louis just shrugs and motions for him to continue, keeps giving him fond looks and little smiles. Louis tries to steer him towards the South Asia exhibit, but Harry stops and shakes his head. 

"I thought that we could maybe have the muffins. If you want," Harry murmurs out sheepishly. 

"Oh," Louis says and rolls his lips into his mouth to try and fight off his smile. It doesn't work. "Yeah, okay."

They sit at one of the tables in the cafe and Louis pulls each of them a muffin out from the bag. Harry already knows they're good because he had to taste test them to make sure they were perfect for Louis, but he's positively elated when Louis lets out a pleased noise after taking his first bite. "These are really good, H. Like, really good." Harry absolutely preens. 

Neither one of them say anything while they eat their muffins. They just stare at each other and smile shyly when they're caught by the other. After Harry's finished picking up their trash, he sits back down in the chair across from Louis and lets out a breath. "So, Niall and Liam are going to the opening next weekend together." 

Louis hums. "Yeah, Liam won't shut up about it." 

"Aw, that's cute," Harry coos. Right. He can do this. He's got this. "So, like, I was just wondering if you'd want to go with me. Maybe." Louis doesn't say anything for a couple seconds so Harry panics and starts rambling. "Well, like, obviously you don't have to. You can say no. I mean, I'd understand especially since our last date didn't go so well. It doesn't even have to be a date either. We could just go together. But not together. I don't- never mind this was stupid. Just kidding. Pretend I didn't say anything. I'm just. I should stop talking." 

"Can I speak now?" Louis asks once Harry's snapped his mouth shut. Harry nods. "I'd love to go with you. I just- well, I can't." Harry feels his face fall. Well, fuck. Louis grabs one of his hands rubs his thumb along the back of it. "Don't frown, Harry. You look so lovely when you smile." Harry can't help but smile. "Yeah, like that. Look even lovelier when you smile wide enough your dimples pop." 

Louis leans over the table and digs his finger into the spot where Harry's dimple would be. It makes him giggle and he bats Louis' hand away. "Okay, okay. Stop."

Louis grins at him when he sits back down and doesn't let go of his hand. "I want to go, I do. I have to work, though. Can I have a rain check?"

"Yeah. 'Course."

***

 

"Niall!" Harry calls from where he's standing in the middle of his room. He's got one arm crossed over his chest while he pulls at his lip with the other hand. "I need your help!"

"I already told ya to wear the black jeans with the holes in the knees!" 

Harry looks down at his legs which are covered in said jeans. "Yeah, I am. But I can't show up half naked. What else?" 

"Your sparkly boots!" Before Harry can ask which, Niall shouts, "the silver, Harry! Don't wanna scare him off." Harry scoffs. His gold boots are amazing. 

"What on top though? I can just go like this." He motions to his bare chest even though Niall can't see him, then bends down to get his boots from the floor of his closet. Which, of course is when Niall comes in the room and slaps him on the bum. "Niall!" Harry shouts indignant as he bats at his hands. "You're supposed to be helping." 

Niall rolls his eyes and pushes Harry over to the bed. "Put your boots on. I'll find you a shirt." 

"Why aren't you freaking out?" 

"I did that the first time and I don't like it much. I decided to skip the freak out this time."

Harry frowns as he slips his boots on. "It's not that easy." 

"Is for me." Niall shuffles through Harry's clothes, the awful sound of his hangers dragging against the rack filtering to Harry's ears. "Wear this," Niall says and thrusts a shirt at Harry. 

"Is it too much?" Harry asks but slips the sheer shirt over his shoulders anyways. 

"No, it looks good." 

"'Kay, I'll believe you." 

 

They end up getting to the museum half an hour later than they had intended. Harry had a minor problem with his hair and had to rewash it because it had to be _perfect_. There are so many people, more than Harry's ever seen, and it takes them awhile to even get through the door. When they do, though, Louis' standing near the entrance with some bloke that has big arms and some rather impressive eyebrows. So, that's Liam, then.

Niall attaches himself to Liam's side as soon as he spots him and drags him off to the start of exhibit. Harry hesitantly makes his way over to Louis because, _fuck_ , he looks good. Louis' wearing impossibly tight black jeans and a white button up. His hair's styled up into a quiff instead of having his fringe messily swept to the side like usual. There's a bit of scruff on his chin and his blue eyes are shining. 

That's not what gets Harry, though. What gets Harry is the braces. There are black braces clipped to Louis' jeans, pulled over his shoulders, and standing stark against his white shirt. He looks so fucking _good_ and Harry's pretty sure he's getting hard from just looking at him. Fuck. 

"Hey you," Louis chirps when Harry's standing in front of him. 

Harry's trying to formulate a response to that and it shouldn't really be that hard, but it is. It definitely is. He's still staring, but he can see Louis' looking him over, too, so he thinks it's alright. He opens his mouth to reply, say a hi back, but what comes out instead is, "Fuck, you look good. Like, really fucking good." 

Louis smirks at him and gives him a filthy onceover. "I could say the same." They just stand there staring at each other, Harry chewing on his lip and Louis licking his lips every so often. It's getting Harry hot, the way Louis' looking at him, and he's embarrassed because he can feel his pants quickly getting tighter and he just really, really hopes no one one will notice. Louis must notice, though. He licks his lips one more time and looks up at Harry from underneath his lashes. "Wanna go to Ancient Rome?" 

Harry nods frantically and grabs Louis' hand. He tugs him along behind him until they get to the Ancient Rome exhibit. There's no one there, everyone having flocked to the front where the new exhibit is, so Louis doesn't waste any time before he backs Harry up against a wall. 

Louis connects their lips together sweetly, keeps it chaste, and pulls back enough to ask, "this okay?" Harry doesn't answer. He just grabs Louis by the back of his neck and pulls him back in. Their lips slide together, hot and wet, and Harry gasps when Louis pulls Harry's bottom lip between his teeth. He tugs on it a bit, then licks his way into Harry's mouth. 

It gets dirty and needy quick. Louis' got one of his hands fisted in Harry's hair while the other works at undoing the rest of the buttons on Harry's shirt. He shifts so one of his legs is in between Harry's and grinds against Harry's hip. 

Harry breaks away from the kiss, breathless and panting, and tilts his head back against the wall. Louis' not deterred, though, just latches onto the skin of Harry's neck and sucks a mark into it. When he gets all of the buttons undone, he runs his hand up Harry's torso and rubs over one of his nipples. 

"Oh fuck," Harry says but breaks off with a whine when Louis tugs at his hair. He slides his hands up Louis' chest and then under his braces, pushes them down his arms. As soon as they're hanging by his aides, Louis' hands are back on him, fingertips ghosting over his ribs and nails raking down his stomach. 

Harry pulls Louis into a kiss again to try and quiet the constant stream of whimpers and whines falling from his mouth. He starts working at the buttons of Louis' shirt, breathes, "I wanna- fuck, I wanna feel you." 

Louis tugs his shirt out from where it's tucked into his jeans and helps Harry undo the rest of the buttons. He lets his shirt fall open and wraps one of his arms around Harry's waist, cups his jaw with his other hand to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. Harry lets his hands trail along Louis' stomach and chest before he slides them around to his back, then down to grip at his bum. He squeezes once and then pulls Louis flush against him. 

Both of them moan when their bare skin touches and Harry can't help but grind down against Louis' thigh. They start grinding against each other, then, and Harry whines when Louis thrusts his thigh up just as Harry goes to grind down. Louis tugs Harry's head back by his hair and nips at his jaw then sucks kisses into the column of his throat. 

Harry lets the tips of his fingers dip beneath the waistband of Louis' jeans and when he makes a broken noise against Harry's neck, he slides his hands further into Louis' pants and grips at the bare skin of his arse. "Fuck, Harry. Oh my god," Louis moans into his ear. His voice is breathy and raspy and Harry wants it to play on repeat in his mind over and over again. 

They start rocking against each other harder, faster. Harry keeps pulling Louis in by his arse and Louis pulls Harry to him with the hand that's around his waist. Louis whispers, "You're so beautiful," into his ear before he slips his tongue back into Harry's mouth, tangles their tongues together, and tugs hard at his hair. 

Harry lets out a deep moan into his mouth and breathes out, "Lou- I think- I'm-"

"Oh my god!" Liam shouts from behind them, which is quickly followed by Niall's cackling. "Louis! What on earth are you doing!" 

Louis whines against Harry's mouth and kisses him one more time before dropping his head to Harry's shoulder. "Fuck," he whispers harshly. Harry stares up at the ceiling and breathes in through his nose heavily. 

"Louis," Liam hisses, voice steadily getting closer. "You're supposed to be working. You have to go back to work. They sent me looking for you and I'm so glad they did because they would freak out if they saw what you're doing!" 

"Then maybe you should be quiet so they don't find me until I've got me clothes on," Louis snaps. 

"Would you hurry up, then? I can try to stall, but you have to hurry." Liam's whispering now, so at least that's something. Niall's still cackling, though. 

"Fine, just, please go." When the sounds of Niall's laughter and Liam's footsteps have petered out, Louis picks his head up from Harry's shoulder. His eyes are glassy, his cheeks flushed, and his hair's a mess. Harry really, really wishes they had more time. "'M sorry," he whispers and pecks Harry on the lips before pulling away from Harry's body. 

"It's okay," Harry breathes out. He watches while Louis buttons his shirt back up and tucks it into his jeans. After he pulls his braces back up, Harry loops his fingers through them and pulls Louis to him. "Rain check?" He whispers before he molds their lips together. Louis smiles against his mouth and Harry can feel his knuckles brush against his skin as he buttons up Harry's shirt. 

Louis pulls back once he's finished and pats down Harry's hair, then does the same to his own. "I should," he says and points behind him with his thumb. Harry nods so Louis leans in and pecks him once before turning on his heels and walking around the corner towards the front of the museum. 

Harry doesn't get to talk to him the rest of the night. They are ridiculously busy and Louis has to stay past closing, so Harry goes home alone after Niall leaves with Liam. At least he has plenty of reference for his wank bank, he thinks. 

***

 

Turns out Louis doesn't work Sunday's. Or Monday's. Harry finds out because he goes back both days to try and find him. He'd realized Sunday morning that they still don't have each other's numbers, so now he's on a mission. Louis does, however, work Tuesday's. 

"Well, hello, Harold," Louis says cheerily when he finds him in modern Europe. "Didn't think you'd be here today. To what do I owe the honor?" 

Harry grins and looks down at his boots. "Just wanted to see you." 

"Oh. Well that's alright then." 

They walk through modern Europe and, surprisingly, Louis actually explains it to Harry. Most of the information is correct. Like, nearly all of it and whenever he gets something wrong he catches himself and asks Harry to fill that bit in before he continues. Which means, he studied. He actually properly looked the information up so he could explain it to Harry. Properly. Fuck. 

It's not very in depth, just a brief overview, but still. He studied and he had to have studied more than just modern Europe because Harry wasn't even supposed to be in today. Harry is so smitten. 

He tugs Louis off to the side of the exhibit when they're nearly all the way through it. The problem with going on Tuesdays is that he has to work late and the museum closes early. Harry's very displeased. But. He's on a mission. "You studied?" He asks when they're in a private (well as private as you can get) corner of the exhibit. 

Louis shrugs and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "Well, yeah. I figured I should 'cause, like, I work here." He takes a deep breath and looks up at Harry from under his fringe. "Mostly did it for you, though. Was it, uhm, was it okay?"

Harry beams at him. "Yeah it was great." He's probably a bit breathless, but, hey what can he say? Apparently beautiful boys talking about history get him hot. Especially when he almost got off with said boy a few exhibits over. He's probably always going to have a soft spot for Ancient Rome. "It was- yeah, you did really good."

"Good, that's- yeah, good." Louis' nodding at him and still looking up at him underneath his fringe. And, fuck, he's so beautiful. Harry can't help it. He leans forwards and connects their lips in a gentle kiss. They definitely don't deepen it or let it get heated because, like, kids and stuff. 

"I had an ulterior motive for coming here today," Harry says once he's pulled back and rests their foreheads together. 

Louis hums. "Well what was it, then?" 

"It was, uhm." Well, Harry can't really remember. Apparently whenever he kisses Louis his brain turns to mush because he honestly has no idea. So he wings it. "I was thinking we should go on a date. Like, a proper date and I promise I won't spill wine on you this time." That was probably it. His brain is fine. 

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Louis quips. Rude. He kisses Harry again, though, so he's not too miffed. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Harry pulls back enough so he can see Louis properly and grins wide at him. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah. When were you thinking?" 

"Thursday? I don't work as late and I don't really want to wait until Friday."

Louis beams and nods happily. "Yeah, Thursday is good."

 

When Harry gets home he realizes three things. One, he never told Louis what time the date was. Two, they never picked a place. And, three, the whole reason for going was to get Louis' number and he failed at that. 

***

 

Harry had planned on going to the museum after work, since he most definitely knows Louis works Wednesdays, but of course his plan isn't really going according to plan. It's nearing midterms so, for once, all of his students took advantage of his office hours. He doesn't really mind because he likes helping and explaining, hence the whole professor thing. And by the time he had finished with his students, there wasn't much time left before the museum would be closing, so he decided to work on picking what he was going to put on the midterm. 

There's a knock on his door just after seven, which is weird because his office hours ended an hour and a half ago. "Come in!" He calls, not looking up from where he's jotting down a couple notes. 

He hears the door open, the soft click of it shutting, and then, "Hello, Mr. Styles."

Harry's head snaps up and he looks towards the door where Louis' leaning against it. And he's- well, he's wearing glasses. Fuck. "Uhh, hello, Mr..." Harry trails off and furrows his brows because he doesn't know Louis' last name. Which prompts another question, "Wait, how'd you know my last name?"

"Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson," Louis says with a grin. "And it's on the door." 

"Oh, right. I knew that." Harry shakes his head at himself and stands up. He rounds the desk and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. "You have glasses." 

Louis goes cross-eyed trying to look at the frames perched on his nose. "That I do. Didn't have time to put me lenses in this morning." 

"I'm glad," Harry says, then frowns at himself because, idiot. "I just mean- they look really good on you. You look good in glasses. I- yeah." He clears his throat and just stares at Louis for a bit. His jeans are still tight as ever and he's wearing a red scoop neck that shows off his collarbones. And, like, the glasses. For some reason, it's really doing something for Harry. So it can't be helped when his question of, "So, what can I do for you Mr. Tomlinson?" Comes out deep and a bit breathless. 

Louis' eyes darken at that, Harry's definitely remembering that for later, and he reaches behind himself to turn the lock on the door. "Well, the thing is," Louis starts as he walks towards Harry with a predatory look in his eyes. "Our date wasn't really planned properly and I've yet to give you my number." 

Harry perches himself on the edge of his desk and lets his legs fall open for Louis to stand between them. He slides his hands into Louis' back pockets when he gets close enough and hums. "We're not very good at this, are we?" 

Louis runs his hands up Harry's torso and rests them on his chest, thumbs over the skin that's on display from where his shirt’s unbuttoned. "Doesn't look like it." He bites his lip and starts working at the rest of Harry's buttons. "We'll have to remember to do that this time," he says quietly. 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. He doesn’t really remember what he’s agreeing to, though, because Louis runs both of his hands up Harry’s chest, up to his shoulders, then down his arms, effectively ridding Harry of his shirt. Louis undoes the tie in Harry’s hair and runs his fingers through his curls when they fall down to his shoulders. 

“Love your hair down, H,” he murmurs, and then emphasizes his point with a little tug to Harry’s hair. Harry’s eyelids flutter a bit at that, mouth slightly parted. "You're very pretty, baby," he says as he runs his thumb over Harry's bottom lip. Harry wraps his lips around the digit, nips at it, and slides his hands under Louis' shirt, keeps bunching it up until Louis raises his arms and lets Harry pull it over his head. 

It knocks his glasses askew, Louis' shirt, so Harry takes them off and sets them on his desk chair. As soon as he does, Louis fists his hand in Harry’s hair and pulls hard enough to tilt his head back. Harry swallows harshly and breathes deeply through his nose as he looks up at Louis. “Lou,” he breathes. “Please.” That’s all it takes for Louis to crash their mouths together, teeth clanking together briefly, and sucking Harry’s tongue into his mouth. Harry whines and drops his hands down to fumble at the zip on Louis’ jeans. 

Louis pulls back from the kiss with a nip to Harry’s bottom lip and drops his hands from Harry. “Get your trousers off, love.” Harry listens, of course he does, and scrambles off the desk to do just that. While he’s tugging off his other boot, he teeters a bit, but Louis’ strong arms are there to steady him. “Easy there.” 

When Harry’s finally gotten himself stripped, he knocks all his papers off of his desk and climbs onto it, lays down on his back with his legs spread. “Fuck,” he hears Louis whisper and then, “shit, ow,” a bit louder after there’s a bang against the desk. Louis hoists himself up on the desk, too, and makes his way between Harry’s legs. He’s got one hand clenched around something, the other running up Harry’s thigh and then petting at his stomach.

“Beautiful, so beautiful,” Louis murmurs while raking his eyes up and down Harry’s body. He sets down a packet of lube and a condom by Harry’s hip and then thumbs over one of Harry’s nipples, licks and sucks at the other. Harry’s hand drops down to tangle in Louis’ hair as he tries to arch into the touch. 

“Lou, please,” Harry whines. 

Louis kisses up his chest and neck, nips at his jaw. “What do you want, baby?” 

“Want you to- fuck, want you to open me up. Want you to fuck me.” Louis hums and bites at his jaw once more before he sits back on his haunches and grabs the packet. He tears it open and slicks his fingers, teases them around Harry’s hole. Harry bucks his hips down, impatient. “Lou, c’mon, please.” Louis tsks at him, but complies and slips one of his fingers in. 

By the time he’s worked up to three fingers, Harry’s letting out a constant stream of whimpers and little moans, clutching at the sides of the desk with his head tilted back. Louis crooks his fingers just right making Harry cry out and clench down tight around his fingers. He fumbles around beside him to grab the condom and somehow manages to get it out of the wrapper and on himself with one hand. He slides his fingers out of Harry and grabs onto his hip tightly. “You ready, love?” 

“Yeah, yes, please,” Harry whines out. “Please, please fuck me.” Louis pushes into him smoothly, keeps going till he’s buried to the hilt. Harry wraps his legs around Louis' waist and tugs at his own hair. He breathes deeply through his nose a few times and squeezes his eyes shut. After a few moments he nods and breathes, “you- move, please.” 

Louis nods and drapes himself over Harry’s body. He grabs onto the edge of the desk by Harry’s head and slowly starts to rock his hips in and out. Harry releases his hair and digs the fingertips of one hand into Louis’ shoulder, grabs the back of Louis’ neck with the other and pulls him down for a kiss. Their lips slide together smoothly and it’s not long before Louis pushes his tongue into Harry’s mouth, hot and needy. 

When Harry starts to push his hips down against Louis’, Louis picks up the pace, starts to go harder and faster. He shifts on his knees a bit, and the next time he thrusts in, he must hit that spot inside Harry because his head falls back against the desk and he lets out a little cry. “Oh god- I- there, please.” 

Louis keeps the angle and does his best to hit that spot on every thrust in. It’s mostly successful. One of Harry’s hands goes up behind his head to grab at the edge of the desk to stop himself from moving up the slick surface every time Louis thrusts into him. Louis covers his hand with his own and leans down to suck marks into Harry’s neck and whisper things like, “fuck, Harry, so pretty, so tight, so good,” into his ear. It doesn’t take long for Harry to be coming with a drawn out moan as he rakes his nails down Louis’ back and clenching tight around him. Louis comes a few thrusts later, the little noises coming from Harry’s mouth and the way he keeps spasming around his cock enough to push him over the edge. 

They lay there panting and trying to get their breath back for a few moments until Harry wiggles around uncomfortably making Louis pull out. Louis props himself up on his elbows and looks down at Harry with a smile on his face, runs his fingers through his sweaty curls. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers in the space between them before kissing him slow and sweet. 

“So are you,” Harry croaks out when Louis’ pulled back, runs his fingers all along the skin on Louis’ back and chest. 

“So, about that date.”

**Author's Note:**

> [erikabearikuh](http://erikabearikuh.tumblr.com) on tumblr.  
>  Thanks for reading!


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